


naptime

by xHeyKYJx



Series: i am just a man (who trusts, gives, tries) [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Adoption, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dadza, Fluff, Gen, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Parental Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Platonic Cuddling, Sickfic, Wilbur Soot-centric, not set in dream smp lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29850069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xHeyKYJx/pseuds/xHeyKYJx
Summary: Wilbur is sick, and Phil’s a good dad.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson
Series: i am just a man (who trusts, gives, tries) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194572
Comments: 1
Kudos: 90





	naptime

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in an adoption au, which has yet to be posted lol. I cranked this one out for some practice with this au and realized that I actually like it, so here you go!! Enjoy <3

Wilbur sniffles and sluggishly reaches up to wipe at his nose, but Phil beats him to it with a tissue. 

“Blow,” he instructs, steeling himself for being slapped away. But Wilbur listens and blows his nose obediently into the tissue, and Phil frowns. Not because of the snot that is now dangerously close to his skin (because he would do anything for his boys) but because Wilbur  _ never  _ listens. Ever. It’s a testament to how poorly he’s feeling, and Phil pulls him in a little closer as he tosses the soiled tissue away. 

Wilbur squirms beneath Phil’s arm, turning to press the unnaturally warm plane of his forehead against his shoulder. Phil rubs along his spine, fingers catching on his damp sleep shirt. Phil should really get him to change soon; laying around in sweaty clothes surely can’t feel very nice. 

“How’s the stomach?” He asks softly, referring to breakfast. Wilbur had had one shaky sip of orange juice before gagging it back into the sink. He hadn’t  _ actually _ puked, but it was more than enough for Phil to keep him home from school. 

“Queasy,” Wilbur mumbles back, reaching up once more to fist at his eyes. He looks utterly exhausted, face pale and somewhat gaunt, and the two bright blotches on his upper cheeks are enough to tell Phil that he’s still a bit too hot without having to feel for it. “Can we lay down?” 

Carefully, Phil adjusts himself so that he’s laying across the expanse of the couch, propped on a pillow and the armrest. Wilbur sinks down on top of him, lower body slotted between his legs and upper body against Phil’s. His warm face is pressed up against the side of his neck, breaths uncomfortably hot against his skin, and Phil lets his arms rest over his son’s lower back. This is how they used to cuddle when Wilbur was young, still addled with recurring nightmares and nightly accidents as a result. He’s always liked to be held, Phil thinks. And Phil has always liked to hold him, protect him, keep him warm and comfortable and safe. 

“Comfy, are we?” Phil murmurs, and Wilbur offers a weak grunt in response. Phil huffs a laugh, unbelievably fond, and brings a hand up to card it through sweaty, tangled curls. Wilbur is asleep within minutes, breaths deep and even, and Phil feels himself relax a little. 

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He’ll make his kid shower later. But for now? Naptime. 

**Author's Note:**

> hope u enjoyed <3 <3 <3


End file.
